


Really Fresh Start

by lunaseemoony



Category: Secret Diary of a Call Girl (TV), Teninch - Fandom, What We Did On Our Holiday (2014)
Genre: F/M, New Year's Kiss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-13
Updated: 2016-08-13
Packaged: 2018-08-08 14:26:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7761379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunaseemoony/pseuds/lunaseemoony
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All Doug wants is to not be alone on New Years. When the beautiful woman he spots at the bar disappears his heart sinks. But this new year still ends up being a fresh start. A <i>really</i>fresh start.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Really Fresh Start

**Author's Note:**

> I'm posting fics from tumblr to complete collections

Doug felt like a detective on a stake out, sitting on his stool across the bar scoping out the one woman there alone. He’d meant to go in to find a date. But why? Just to show up Abby by proving he could get one? He gulped down a pint of lager only to end up nursing his second and third while utterly transfixed by the honey-haired goddess across the bar. She was confident, sitting up straight in her bright purple dress and decked out with gold jewelry. Real gold, none of the plated stuff that he’d gotten in trouble for giving Abby. And yes, he did bother to then learn the difference, thank you very much. 

She was well out of his league. As in, he played mini league and she was in outer space. Abby would be laughing in his face right now. Even mild mannered Wallace would guffaw at him imagining himself with her on his arm. Fuck off Wallace. Doug was under no illusions as to his chances. In fact, he sat at the bar waiting for her significant other to show up. He had to know what sort of man would be lucky enough to call himself hers. 

And the longer that man made her wait the more he admired her and the angrier he became. His body wanted to become a puddle right there on the bar when their eyes met and they exchanged a nod. Later on she smiled at him and he swore the fireworks were going off in his chest. They shared a little connection from across the room. He nourished it, let the dream of growing it settle. She was utter perfection, and oh he’d give so much just to let her soft pink lips meet his. Hell, he’d settle for sitting just a bit closer, just to drink her in. She’d be delectable. He could imagine her just at the tip of his tongue. He watched as seats next to her filled and emptied as foolish men attempted to buy her affections. Really, he was just curious. He had to see it through, after sticking it out for so long. 

Damn his bladder. And, well, his choice to drink as much as he did. How was he to know she’d sit at the bar for as long as she did? If he’d known he would just had water. At least then he wouldn’t have missed her. When he returned from the loo her flashy white coat was gone, her along with it. He looked at the clock and watched half of the bar empty out. Less than a minute until midnight and he was already having regrets. Suddenly he had no idea what he’d even wandered into this bar for in the first place. He might as well step outside to watch the fireworks, he thought. 

But this year was going to be different. This year he was well and truly on his own. He had proper goals. Win back the hearts of his children that stupid Wallace stole. Repair his relationship with Lottie. Find love.

Who was he kidding? He couldn’t even work up the courage to talk to his siren before she floated away. Rightly so. He couldn’t blame -

He hadn’t even gotten a chance to let the chill touch his face when fingers clutched his neck and raked him down to a pair of lips. Really soft lips that tasted like rum and honey and expensive lipstick. He didn’t even know what he was doing, less what was going on. His body acted of its own accord, wrapping his arms around the soft, warm body attached to these perfect lips. The roar of the crowd surrounding them drowned out the already faint chimes of midnight. But the booms, crackles, and pops of the fireworks teased his ears as his partner licked his lips apart. He felt a twinge of betrayal then, for his lost siren, out here in the thick of it somewhere snogging some stupidly lucky and undeserving idiot. 

Which turned out to be him. For a beat he opened his eyes. It was her! Really her. He blinked, sucking in a breath of disbelief through his nose. Impatient, she sighed on his lips and grabbed his face to reign him back in. Her hips rutted against his and he praised what little control over his anatomy that he did have. He cupped her head in his hand and threaded his fingers through her hair, just as perfect and soft as it looked. That little connection, the little spark, it ignited and soared and left him hungry for more. Forget the lager, he was drunk on _her_. 

“Hi,” she purred after brushing noses. “I’m Hannah.”

“Hannah,” he sighed, grinning like an idiot. A very lucky idiot. 

“That all right?” 

“It’s beautiful.” Smitten didn’t even begin to cover it. She paused and stared up at him, grin growing wider with each heartbeat and staggered breath. “Fantastic! Doug! My name is Doug!” 

She softened. Bloody hell she was beautiful, and sounded like an angel. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Fantastic. Happy New Year!”

She let her hand drop to his. They looked down and marveled at the sight, the overwhelming exhilaration from how _right_  it felt, finding the perfectly perfect stranger to kiss. Her hand, buzzing with warmth and energy, even felt divine in his. 

He beamed at her and braved another kiss. “It’s off to a good start, I’d say.”


End file.
